Category Poetry
The Parrot Meets the Grotesque
This stanza was written just after Theresa May had accused the Commons of merely obstructing her and the “will of the people” and just before she headed back to the EU to beg for an extension. The thought occurred that it is possible to have no pride and no humility… Continue reading The Parrot Meets the Grotesque
Jez and John and the Little Weed
There’s Jez and John and the Final Say. And there’s Bill and Ben and the Little Weed. Bill and Ben were Flowerpot Men and belong with Listen with Mother in the nurseries of the past, along with the Little Weed. And Jez Corbyn and John McDonnell ? Where do… Continue reading Jez and John and the Little Weed
The Parrot Takes New Bearings
I’m thinking here of our sleek new Foreign Secretary’s recent comment, saying – as reported in the Guardian – that “relations with the EU will be ‘poisoned for many years to come’ if Brussels fails to budge in the Brexit talks.” In other words, says Mr Hunt, he of… Continue reading The Parrot Takes New Bearings
The Parrot Wails
The parrot thought he was studying the tea leaves. Instead he found himself watching in horror as the tea cup crumbled in his hand… Continue reading The Parrot Wails
Parrot and the Dung Beetles
For people in the UK, the stomach-churning mess and disgrace of Brexit, as it runs on and on from climax to climax – no “climax” really seeming to shift anything substantial – can sometimes seem the only show in town, a bit like a very serious illness in a family… Continue reading Parrot and the Dung Beetles
Our Sorry Brexit Twain
The night before these two stanzas were written, it was reported that the Cabinet had told Theresa May that in the next few months, she would have to go, so that another Tory leader could be chosen, presumably to deny and face down reality even more doggedly than she had… Continue reading Our Sorry Brexit Twain